


Familiar faces

by Vanilla_Specs



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Gladio is a musician, I Was Drunk When I Wrote This, Iggy is a hipster, M/M, Mentioned Noctis Lucis Caelum, Mentioned Prompto Argentum, Minor Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Scars
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:54:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28307832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanilla_Specs/pseuds/Vanilla_Specs
Summary: Gladio has a lot to live up to, his family being well-known from years long past. While in his favourite coffee house he chances upon a man that looks oddly familiar, but they've never met before.That same man refuses to use his real name and so Gladio took the chance at calling him by a name from his dream, the name used by a man baring a striking resemblence to 'Specs'. Perhaps he could finally find what he's been missing in a complete stranger.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia & Ignis Scientia, Gladiolus Amicitia & Original Female Character(s), Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia
Kudos: 7





	Familiar faces

**Author's Note:**

> Just... don't ask. I apologise for my long silence and lack of updates on other stories, y'know how it is.

Everyone has a favourite coffee shop, right? One you frequent enough that the barista knows you by name and knows your order by heart. Or you’re simply that memorable that even after weeks of not visiting, it feels like it was only yesterday. The same could be said about people, right? You could see someone enough that they’re familiar to you, even if you don’t actually know them. Just a fleeting glance of them crossing the street at the same time everyday or in the supermarket buying their weekly shopping, 

Familiarity can be a strange thing, but really it’s with people that it begins to become odd. When the face of a stranger suddenly feels recognisable, even though you can’t put a name to a face. 

Which is how Gladio came to be sat staring at the new barista with unsettling intensity. He knew for a fact he’d never seen the guy before, he’d remember for certain but there’s just something about him. He’s not even got one of those generic faces so it’d be hard to mistake him for someone else. Not to mention the fact he’s wearing gloves at work, during summertime- Maybe he’s germaphobic. Nevertheless, for some unknown reason, he piqued Gladio’s curiosity. 

The most likely explanation is that they went to school together or something and he was one of the nerdy kids, sure looks like one, just with a weird hipster twist. Thick-rimmed glasses, bracelets adorning his wrists, a couple of necklaces and loose suspenders.

Suddenly aware he hadn’t even ordered a drink yet and been sat there for twenty minutes, Gladio cleared his throat and not-so subtly migrated into the queue. How could he be subtle when he’s a six-foot wall of muscle, a side effect of being a football player. 

The thing about this place wasn’t that it had good coffee- it does, like, its amazing- but the atmosphere. It's cozy and inviting, somewhere to chill out with friends or on your own, nice place to study and cram in too, though that could be the endless cup option. Gladio’d never been somewhere you could literally pay ten gil and get a near endless supply of bean juice. And man, he’s sure the cakes and stuff are baked in house, no factory goods taste so damn nice. 

“Sir?” the girl behind the counter had to practically snap her fingers at him to grab his attention back from… wherever it was. 

Giving her his most charming smile, he said, “Sorry, distracted. I’ll uh, just take a medium latte please.”

She merely rolled her eyes and punched it in, “Name?”

“Gladio.”

“Gotcha, head on over there, Specs’ll shout you when it’s done.”

He shuffled over to the right, leaning against the bar when an unfamiliar voice made him jump. “Mila doesn’t take kindly to young men trying to charm her I’m afraid.”

Gladio scoffed and shook his head, turning around to see his object of interest- so to speak- smirking as he deftly pushed buttons and pulled leavers on the complicated looking machine. “Didn’t mean anythin’ by it, guess she gets it a lot?”

“That doesn’t even begin to describe it. Amusing really.” He replied in a hushed voice, mindful of the woman, Mila, not two feet behind him. “Gladio I presume?” He held out a cup labelled as such, slipping a lid over the top.

“Yeah, thanks.” Gladio said, nodding in thanks and retreating back to his corner. Dude sounded different to what Gladio thought, he’s got a fancy ass accent. A nice fancy ass accent. Y’know, if someone works in a coffee house and wears ripped jeans and flannel shirts, you don’t expect them to speak like royalty. 

Rather than thinking about some guy he doesn’t know, he should probably be working on his college assignment. Currently shoved in his backpack. With a heavy sigh, Gladio reached down and pulled out his laptop, thankful the place has decent wi-fi. Probably better than his internet at home actually. Aside from when he was at class, it was a rarity Gladio was at home; he’d always come here until he was close to the time of his curfew. 

His mother didn’t approve of course, but it didn’t matter, it didn’t feel like home. 

And now he killed his good mood. Perfect. 

Scowling at the lock screen, Gladio typed in his details- perhaps abusing the keys a little too much- and just stared at the home screen. Something moved beside him and he flinched, hopefully it wasn’t embarrassingly obvious. 

“My apologies, I didn’t mean to startle you. You looked like you could use a pick-me up of sorts.” Came a vaguely familiar voice. A small plate was set down beside his coffee, Gladio was momentarily surprised to find a piece of Chiffon Cake. One of his favourite sweet treats here. “On the house- well, on me.”

He looked up gratefully and gave what he hoped was a convincing smile. “Thanks, might be right. Y’know I feel kinda bad, I don’t actually know your name.”

“It’s ridiculous that's why. No-one save my parents use it.”

“Explains why you ain’t got a nametag on.” He joked. Evidently talking to this guy wasn’t as bad as he thought. “Can’t be as bad as mine.”

“Oh I beg to differ, I know for certain yours has historical roots. A long family line indeed.”

Taken aback, Gladio reclined in his seat and raised his eyebrows. “And how’d you figure that out?”

He scoffed, arms folded and a sly smile on his face. “It wasn’t hard. How many other people are named Gladiolus? Or have such a famous family name.”

“Wouldn't say that anymore…”

“Be that as it may, it was once and that’s my point. I do read, despite appearances.”

“Actually look like the bookish type.” He said, taking a proper look at the guy. Sure the hipster vibe is super apparent but there was something he hadn’t noticed, his eyes; both green, yeah but the left one was pretty much white with how pale it was. In all his gawking, he’d never been close enough to see him up close. “Can I ask you something?”

He glanced over at the counter, content there wasn’t a queue and then looked back at Gladio. “Alright.”

“What’s with the eye? Something happen?” Gladio had his fair share of injuries in the past, some turned into nasty scars and some healed fine. 

“Oh, that. It’s nothing, there's not even an interesting story to go with it. It’s just something I was born with, along with a rather quirky birthmark.” He slipped off a glove and sure enough there was a small band-like mark around his middle finger.

“That is strange. Looks cool though. I got a couple myself, none as visible as yours though.”

The little bell rang and a couple of people came in, night shift workers no doubt. 

“Oi! Look alive Specs! Zombies are in!” Mila yelled, tossing an empty box of tea at him. And missing spectacularly. 

“Duty calls. Take care of yourself, Gladio.” Specs said, smiling softly and replacing his glove. 

“See ya around, Specs.” Gladio replied, watching him walk away.

It was at that moment Gladio realised it was past his curfew and his heart sank. He down the remains of his coffee, shoved his laptop away and carefully wrapped the cake in a napkin, placing it in his pocket. He'd have waved goodbye but it was apparently the night shift rush, so he left silently. 

His mother was going to flip out. 

By the time Gladio had parked up his bike he was half an hour late, and sure enough his mother was standing on the porch, burning holes into him with her stare.

"You're late. What have I told you about that place?" She asked, arms crossed. 

He sheepishly ducked his head and sighed quietly. "I know. Won't happen again."

"It better not. You're on the right track, I don't need people like that distracting you. I won't have you waste your life and sully our name."

"Name don't mean anythin' anymore…" Gladio muttered under his breath, thankful she didn't hear him. "Understood."

She stepped aside and he quickly walked to his room. His mother wasn't a bad person per se, she just has strict rules and high expectations. Hanging around with 'weirdos' at a coffee house and playing computer games didn't cut it. 

He was her not-so-little boy; Gladiolus Amicitia III, Captain of the football team and musician. Sharing a name with a vaunted hero wasn't easy, no matter how loosely they were related, god people even said he looked like the original. Just to add to the load.

Rather than bumble around aimlessly, Gladio flopped onto bed and kicked his shoes off, content to just fall asleep.

"Iggy! Watch it!" I yelled, yanking the man out of harm's way. 

"My thanks." 

The city was in ruins. Building's reduced to rubble, bridges blown to pieces and fires ravaged the wreckage. Noct was on his own. Prompto was here, so was Ignis. They had to find him, soon. With the evacuation done, they were free to fight with their King. 

There was a bridge to the left, mostly intact, and I nudged the two of them towards it. Iggy tried Noct again but couldn't reach him, doubt his ear piece even works anymore.

Suddenly something exploded nearby and an aircraft came barrelling towards us. I managed to snag Prompto, but Ignis was just out of reach.

I couldn't see him. The bridge was shattered but there was no sign of the strategist. What if he didn't make it? 

Just the thought of it made me sick.

In my frantic search I spotted his jacket caught on the rubble across the river, what remained of it anyway.

It was hard to breathe. Prompto shook my shoulder and pointed to his ear piece. I switched mine back on and upon hearing his voice my heart leapt. He was okay. He was alive.

By the Six this was a bad day.

The night before had been so laid back. We played cards together and had a takeaway, cracked open a couple of beers. When Noct and Prompto left for bed, I spent the rest of the night calming Ignis' racing mind, taking him apart piece by piece to put him back together again.

Mindless pillow talk and warm embraces. I stroked his hair while he fell asleep in my arms, finally looking young and peaceful. 

We had the weight of the world on our shoulders, with some it showed more than others. Noct was always tired and quiet. Prompto was skittish and a bundle of nerves. But Iggy, you wouldn't know he was suffering until times like this. The dark circles under his eyes, the deep set frown that melted away into a weary smile.

I'd go to Hell and back for him. And I know he'd do the same for me.

So to be running around Altissia, not knowing he's okay killed me inside. Noct might own my body but Ignis owns my heart.

It was the proverbial icing on the cake when Prompto and I finally found them. Barely alive and battered. Noct was unconscious, a little beaten up but he'd be fine with some rest. But Gods. Iggy. My Iggy. 

He was worse off. Far worse off. His skin marred by burns, cuts and bruises. Clothes filthy and torn. His glasses shattered close by. And his eyes… His beautiful eyes. 

A sudden blaring startled Gladio awake and he slapped his alarm off, glaring at the mocking display. For a moment he reflected on whatever dream that was and wondered why the hell he was dreaming of Specs. Going blind no less. He doesn't even know the guy's real name. 

Or does he. What was the name of the guy in the dream? Prompto? No, that didn't sit right.

"Gladiolus, are you up?!" His mother shouted. To which he replied with a hoarse, "Yeah!"

He rolled out of bed and hopped in the shower, careful not to take too long. The water ran cold quickly. Thankfully he didn't have anything major to do today, pop into college and use the music room sure but that was about it. Maybe he could stop for a coffee after.

Hastily drying himself off and throwing on some clothes, Gladio headed off. He decided to enjoy the weather, clear and crisp, and walk rather than cycle. 

The campus wasn't far, about twenty minutes or so by foot. The music block was quite isolated purely because of how loud it could be but the art students often occupied the spare rooms, using the performances for inspiration sometimes. As he passed one of the rooms Gladio had to stop and do a double-take.

Apparently Mister Specs was quite the artist. And apparently Gladio was denser than a brick. How he hadn't realised the guy studies in the same building, was a mystery.

Trying to play it smooth, Gladio awkwardly stepped in, "Hey."

Amused by the sounds of it, Specs looked at him over his shoulder. "Fancy seeing you here."

"Didn't realise you were a student here, cool piece by the way."

"Thank you. I saw it in a dream and I couldn't forget it." He replied, cleaning off his brush. The more Gladio looked at it, the more familiar it became.

The dark waters reflected the chaos in the city, teeming with rubble and bodies. Rain washing away the blood from the stone and taming the fires. In the distance an airship seemed to be departing the scene. It was then he remembered his own dream. And a name.

"So Ignis, fancy tellin' me about that dream?"


End file.
